


Somewhere Only We Know

by youaresunlight



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Supernatural
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Art By Purgatory-Jar, Dean/Cas Reverse Bang, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Kiss, Fluff, Happy Ending, Healer Castiel, Love Confessions, M/M, Mutual Pining, Professor Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-12
Updated: 2018-06-12
Packaged: 2019-05-21 10:45:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14913917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youaresunlight/pseuds/youaresunlight
Summary: Five times Dean and Cas almost kissed in the Hogwarts Greenhouses, and one time they did.





	Somewhere Only We Know

**Author's Note:**

> I'm very excited to post my piece for this year's Dean/Cas Reverse Bang! I was paired with the lovely [Elena](http://purgatory-jar.tumblr.com) and had the chance to write for her gorgeous artwork - please send compliments her way! 
> 
> We hope you enjoy our collaboration (and Destiel in Hogwarts)!

 

“Who can tell me how a Demiguise evades its predators?” Dean glanced up from his notes to ask his Fourth Years. They were crowded around a planter in Greenhouse Two for one of his rarer, indoor lectures.

Someone raised her hand – Jules Edwards, Hufflepuff – and Dean smiled; he could always count on her. “Miss Edwards,” he met her gaze, then nodded to give her the floor.

“They have precognitive sight, meaning they can tell the future, and they also have the power of invisibility.” The corners of her mouth drooped ever so slightly. “It’s why their pelts are in such high demand.”

“That’s right, many invisibility cloaks are made from woven Demiguise hair, although, over time, the hair turns opaque, and once the translucence is gone, so is the invisibility. They’re peaceful creatures and, as you can imagine, poaching has become a serious problem. There are groups out there pushing for legislature banning Demiguise cloaks, and I’ll be happy to talk about it with anyone who’s interested. Very good, Miss Edwards. Five points to Hufflepuff.”

He didn’t miss the blush on the Fourth Year’s cheeks, or the way her friends started to giggle around her. Dean shook his head as subtly as he could. Not to sound conceited, but he was used to it. “The Demiguise is one example of an herbivore, whose diet mainly consists of Gurdyroot. We have some growing in this section here. Sorta reminds you of a green onion, doesn’t it?” He waited for his students to each take a look. “What are some other examples of herbivores?”

A good number of hands went up this time, so at least the majority had skimmed the reading. Granted, the list of herbivores was in the first two pages, but Dean had learned from experience to pick his battles. He was about to call on Brandon Lewis when the door rustled open, making half the class turn their heads to the sound, and normally Dean would’ve been annoyed but-

His breath suddenly caught in his throat.

“I’m so sorry to interrupt,” Cas said. Healer Castiel Novak, newest member of Hogwarts staff. The youngest _ever_ to head the hospital wing. The object of Dean’s ever-growing affections. “I thought we were good on Dittany, but it turns out our supply is dismally low.”

“Right,” Dean cleared his throat, feeling the attention of thirty curious students. “Of course, feel free to, um…” he gestured vaguely at nothing, “to your heart’s content.”

“Thank you,” Cas smiled at him, and _shit_ , Dean couldn’t string two words together. He watched Cas weave his way to a planter in the back before managing to find his bearings again.

Luckily, his lecture only lasted another quarter of an hour, after which his students filed out for the following period, back to their noise and boisterous chatter. Castiel, who’d finished his work, now with a basket of Dittany under one arm, stood by the door and held it chivalrously as the kids passed through, each greeting him.

One boy, a Gryffindor Beater, lingered behind to thank Cas for mending his broken wrist the previous week. He looked he might faint when Cas smiled back and, to be quite honest, Dean could empathize.

Once the students had gone and the greenhouse fell quiet, Dean gathered his nerve to walk over to Cas. “All your patients keeping you busy?” _Casual enough, not too awkward_. _Well done_.

To his delight, Cas gave a low laugh, lips curling upward and crinkling his eyes. “You would think it’ll calm down after flu season, but apparently the warm weather makes everyone reckless. It still baffles me how many boys have tried climbing trees in the past few weeks.”

Dean laughed. “Well, can you blame them? How else is a guy supposed to prove his manliness?”

Cas tried to look stern, without much success, which only served to widen Dean’s impish grin. With a huff, Cas glanced around the greenhouse, his gaze traveling back to settle on Dean. “You know, Professor MacLeod must really favor you to let you hold your herbivore lectures here.”

“Rowena?” Sure, it was true that the Herbology professor was tiny yet intimidating. She scoffed at any subject that wasn’t her own, or Potions, and called Care of Magical Creatures a glorified petting zoo. “Eh, I think she’s got a spot soft for me.”

“I can’t imagine that’s difficult,” Cas said quietly.

“What’s not difficult?”

“Having a soft spot for you.”

Dean blushed so fast that he felt lightheaded, his heart thumping rapidly inside his chest. “Oh,” he mumbled inanely, wondering how he could possibly survive this moment.

In his effort to control his expression, Dean fixed his gaze on Castiel’s basket, where among the Dittany a green Bowtruckle was peeking out and studying him curiously.

“A Bowtruckle?” Dean laughed softly. “Don’t think I’ve seen one of those in a while.”

“Me either,” Cas smiled back. “He likes to keep me company, boss me around.” His eyes were mirthful when they met Dean’s again. “Anyway, I’m sorry again for interrupting,” he said.

Dean shrugged his shoulder. “It’s no trouble, Cas.”

They were standing close, Dean realized, like they’d steadily gravitated toward one another. If he were allowed, Dean could take one step and press his lips to Cas’, quick and sweet.

“I should be going,” Cas told him then, because this was reality, not Dean’s fantasies. “Are you headed to the castle? I could walk with you?”

Dean tamped down hard on his feelings. “Sure,” he said.

 

 

The third time his Kneazle jumped over the fence, Dean didn’t even think twice before walking to the greenhouse. He knew by now where the creature had run off to, how it could always sense when his favorite wizard was around.

Needless to say, Dean was far from surprised to find her nestled in Cas’ arms, the grey shape of her burrowed and asleep, purring contentedly while Cas scratched between her ears.

“I had a feeling I’d find her here,” Dean teased as he climbed over the threshold. He spotted the small ramekin by Cas’ feet, holding bits of salmon from lunch that afternoon. The Bowtruckle from before was lounging against it, watching Cas, then Dean, then Cas again. It looked far too knowing for a tiny plant, like it could see through Dean and all his pining.

Castiel laughed, “It’s Thursday after lunch. She knows very well I’m bringing her a treat.” He brought her close, so he could nuzzle her scruff. “You’re a clever one, aren’t you?” he cooed at her. 

And Dean- He didn’t need to know how tender Cas sounded when talking to animals. He’d already seen how kind Cas was with students, and neither lessened his mournful longing. “You know, Cas, it’s not just the treats. Kneazles have a knack for knowing who to trust. It usually takes Clio a few weeks to warm up to people, but with you, it was…” _Love at first sight_.

“Is that right?” Cas looked a little pleased as Clio stretched languidly. “You like me, huh?”

‘It’s not just her,’ Dean wanted to say, but he at least had more self-preservation than that.

Clio put up a bit of a fight when Dean took her back from Cas’ arms, but she curled up against him soon enough and Cas’ eyes softened while Dean tried to breathe. “I’ll see you next week?” Cas asked her quietly, and she bumped his hand as if in response. 

When Cas glanced up, his eyes met Dean’s for the space of two heartbeats, and Dean knew he was a goner.

“Thank you for looking after her,” he told Cas shyly, his cheeks glowing pink.

Cas smiled. “Any time,” he said, and coming from him, it sounded like a promise.

 

 

It wasn’t until a couple weeks later that Dean decided to do something about his dilemma, after he heard a student consulting another on whether he should ask a crush to Madam Puddifoot’s. It hit Dean then like a bucket of ice that he was far too old to harbor a crush, that the worst Cas could do was turn him down, or whatever _Witch Weekly_ said.

Not that he read it. 

He used his morning break to floo to Hogsmeade, mainly to search for reinforcements. He was mulling over caramel truffles from Honeydukes when he found an elderly witch selling flowers in the street. He asked her please point out her prettiest selection; peonies and irises, roses and baby’s breath. The bouquet Dean left with had a few stems of each, bursting with color and the fragrance of spring.

He made a stop at the hospital wing first, only to be greeted by Inias, Cas’ apprentice, who took one look at Dean and smiled knowingly. “Healer Novak is down at the Greenhouses, Professor.”

“Yes, um…” Dean rubbed the back of his neck, his skin hot and flushed. “Uh, thank you, Inias.” 

“Of course,” Inias said politely. “Those flowers are beautiful. I’m sure he’ll enjoy them.”

“Yeah?” Dean quirked a smile. “Well, ah, I hope so. I’m no good at stuff like this.”

“You could give the man _grass_ and he’d be enamored,” Inias laughed. “I think you’ll be fine.”

Dean wished he could share the same confidence – more importantly, did _everyone_ know how he felt about Cas? The possibility mortified him. He wasn’t eager to be gossiped about. 

The second he left the castle, however, any thoughts besides _Cas_ promptly disappeared, and the closer he approached the Greenhouses, the more his surroundings seemed to fade away. It was no question he was nervous as hell, but he was hung up on Cas like he’d never been with anyone else, and if… If Cas didn’t want him, then Dean would move on.

He could, couldn’t he?

It was Rowena’s off-period as well, leaving all seven Greenhouses mercifully empty. There were medicinal herbs planted in each, and Dean’s plan was to peek inside them one by one.

He’d decided to start with the closest one when Cas rounded the corner ten meters ahead. “Hey, Cas-” Dean began to say, before losing voice and, subsequently, his courage.

He watched haplessly as a woman followed Cas, her hand clasped in his, both of them laughing. She was blonde and slight, so petite next to Cas, the gauzy hem of her sundress fluttering around her – the same color as the cornflower blue of her eyes and Dean felt his chest tighten, so hard that it hurt. Cas, standing by her side, wasn’t wearing his robes, Dean realized. In fact, he looked more pressed and buttoned-up than usual, a version of him no one had seen before.

Dean wondered, in that brief moment, how he could have been so daft, so oblivious. How he could’ve misread the entire situation. How had he deluded himself? Who was he kidding?

They were far enough apart and Cas too preoccupied to notice his periphery, let alone Dean. He opened the door to Greenhouse Three, the one with the lily pond, and led the woman inside.

Dean looked down at the flowers still grasped in his hand, fingers curled conscientiously around the arrangement so as to not wrinkle the lavender ribbon. It would be a waste to throw it away, but he had no clue what to do with it now.

He was pulled from his trance-like state of distress by a warbling noise by the sides of his shoes. It was Cas’ Bowtruckle, stood upright and staring up at Dean with a worried expression.

“Did you know?” Dean asked the creature. “Were you trying to warn me all this time?”

The Bowtruckle trilled at him, high and sympathetic; Dean’s laugh was breathy-wet as he knelt on the ground.

Pulling a rose out of his bouquet, Dean held it out to the creature, who carefully accepted. The stem was as long as the Bowtruckle was tall. “It was worth a shot, huh?” Dean admitted sadly.

The creature kept staring while Dean stood up, its mouth downturned and expression dismayed like it couldn’t believe how pathetic Dean was. “I’ll get over it,” Dean lied through his teeth, then turned back in the direction of the castle.

“Dean?” a voice called out, and Dean froze in his tracks, because that was definitely… When he spun around, he came face to face with Cas, wearing his familiar Healer’s robes. “Dean, are you alright?”

Dean felt crazy. “Yeah, I thought I just… Cas, I just saw you…” _I saw you with her_.

“I’ve been here, getting herbs for my…” Cas cocked his head. “Did you mean my brother?”

“Your brother?” Dean repeated dumbly, a dozen questions swarming his mind.

“Yes, my twin brother James. He and his wife are visiting from London.” Cas peered at Dean, forehead creased with worry. “Dean, are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, I… I’m fine,” Dean said, relief like sudden rain following a drought. Not that this meant Cas was a sure thing, but now, Dean could at least… He could hope again.

Cas’ gaze was intense, fond and concerned, and even when Dean blushed and dropped his eyes, he felt its warmth like a ray of sun. He knew that Cas could see the bouquet in his hand, sensed question, unspoken, suspended between them. And Cas was in front of him, _this_ was his chance, yet when Dean broke the quiet-

“I’ll see you later, Cas.”

He was trying to walk past when Castiel stopped him – a firm, calming hand on his wrist. “Dean, wait,” his voice was so soothing, like easy waves rolling gently ashore. “I don’t mean to pry, it’s just… You seem upset.” His thumb brushed over Dean’s racing pulse point. “You can talk to me, if you’d like,” he offered, looking painfully earnest, standing there.

“It’s nothing,” Dean tried for nonchalant, though it was nearly impossible to pull away.

Cas didn’t let go as he said, “Okay,” and when he touched his pulse again, Dean felt it on his heart.

 

 

Dean didn’t avoid the Greenhouses, per se, though he found himself shying away from frequent visits, sending his apprentices to check on the planters, and even to fetch Clio when she ran off again. 

Cas caught his eye when they were in the Great Hall, sitting on opposite sides of the staff tables. It was a bit unnerving yet comforting too, like Dean had somebody watching over him. It was a dozen little moments here and there, like their eyes meeting briefly over chocolate croissants or Cas’ small nod as he sat down for dinner. Or when the pumpkin juice was out of Dean’s reach and Cas levitated it closer with a flick of his wrist.

On the evening Dean ran out of Gurdyroot, the sun set early through a bleak, grey drizzle, and his boots sank and stuck on the muddy trail leading from the castle to the Greenhouses. All the buildings were lit from within, the cluster of them glowing like fireflies. It only made him eager to escape the rain, so he picked up his pace, hand braced toward the sky.

He didn’t expect to run into Cas, although his stomach swooped when it happened anyway.

“Cas,” he said from the doorway, trying to shake the moisture out of his hair. He figured it was a mess, but the concern only lasted till he saw Cas’ face, his red-rimmed eyes. “What happened?” he blurted out, closing the scant few feet between them.

Cas was so clearly exhausted, slumped against a planter, the skinny Bowtruckle perched on his shoulder. “Dean,” he attempted a smile – a small, strained thing. “Still raining out there?”

“Yeah,” Dean said distractedly, because Castiel looked- “What’s going on?”

“Just a long day,” Cas replied tiredly, and beside him, the Bowtruckle trilled like as if urging Cas to elaborate. One of its leaves perked up like an eyebrow, producing a distinctly unimpressed expression.

Dean took the cue. “You wanna tell me about it?” He could think of worse ways to wait out the rain. Plus, he ought to know who he was going to hex before running back out there in righteous fury.

Cas’s smile this time was softer, genuine. “I received an owl from my parents today.” He sighed heavily, head tipped toward the ceiling. “They asked when I’m going to transfer to the Ministry.”

Dean frowned. “The Ministry? Do they have a posting for Healers now?” 

“Well, no,” Cas shrugged defeatedly. “They’re not exactly supportive of my career choice.”

“What?” Dean felt his hackles rise. “They’d rather you be stuck in some government job?”

“It’s what most of our family has done, including my brother. He’s always been the good son.”

“Sure,” Dean scoffed. What a load of bollocks. “Because you’ve really done badly for yourself. I mean, what will they do? Force you to quit?” The thought of Cas leaving clenched at his chest.

“I’m sure if I could become an Auror tomorrow, they’d approve wholeheartedly,” Castiel said. “But no, I don’t plan on leaving. I love what I do, and I love where I am.”

“Good,” Dean huffed. He’s too worked up. He’s being too obvious. “You’re great at your job.”

Cas locked their eyes. “I’m glad you think so.” 

“I know so.” Dean blushed. “I’ve known since Fifth Year.”

“What do you mean?” Cas tilted his head, in that peculiar way Dean had always found charming.

“You remember when I busted my face from Quidditch? During that game against Gryffindor?” Dean reminded him. He absently rubbed his cheek at the memory. “You can still kind of see it. Pretty faded though.”

“You were injured fairly often if I recall correctly,” Cas clicked his tongue as he took a step closer. He touched his hand to the height of Dean’s cheek, where the once-broken skin was long healed over. The line was barely visible, revealed only when the light fell upon it just so. Cas’ fingers were gentle, ghosting over Dean’s, and Dean felt like all the air had been sucked from the room.

 

 

_“Hey, Cas,” Dean looked up from his parchment. “Fanged Geranium are Class B, yeah?”_

_Castiel met his gaze over the bed of said plants, holding a watering can filled with centaur tears. “Yes,” he nodded in response. “They keep themselves safe through physical attacks.”_

_“Right, Class A is odors, Class B is physical attacks, Class C is toxins…”_

_“And Class D?” Cas prompted with a smile._

_“Hang on, I know this.” Dean grinned. “Infections.” He added another sentence to his Herbology essay. Thank god he’d gotten extra time to work on it. “So, I hear you’re helping out in the hospital wing? How’s that going?” he asked off-handedly, as though hearing that news about Castiel hadn’t piqued his interest. Greatly, in fact._

_“Pretty well, actually,” Castiel said. “She has me studying medicinal herbs at the moment.”_

_“So, you’re watering these because…?”_

_Castiel laughed. “Just a favor for the professor. I’m already here.” He set the can down and peered over at Dean, his eyes vivid blue and- Breathtaking. “How’s your, um…” he gestured at Dean’s face, looking sweet and worried. “You had a rough hit.”_

_“Ah, yeah,” Dean tried to laugh, though he ended up wincing when half his face stung. Who knew that Gryffindors could play so dirty; albeit, most stereotypes had lost their meaning since the War. “Nimbus to the face. Not fun,” he said, gingerly touching the wound on his cheek. It was mostly scabbed over, still dark-red and ugly, but at least it had closed and wasn’t bleeding anymore._

_“Did she give you any ointment for it?” Castiel frowned. “It might scar if you don't…”_

_“Nah,” Dean replied cheerfully. “It’s a battle wound, right?”_

_Cas rolled his eyes._

_“Give me a minute,” he said seriously, before disappearing into the storage closet, only to re-emerge a few moments later with a jar cradled carefully in his hands. It wasn’t anything special, just plain and ceramic, and Cas crossed the room till he stood next to Dean. He placed the jar on the edge of the planter. “Have you heard of Chimayó?” he asked out of nowhere._

_Dean blinked. “Oh. I don’t think so?” He admittedly read a lot, but it didn’t ring a bell._

_“It’s a church, in North America. A place of pilgrimage, apparently. The soil on the floor – inside the church – is known to have inexplicable healing powers.”_

_“Okay,” Dean squinted at the jar. “And that’s what you’ve got in there?”_

_Cas smiled proudly, one hand on the lid. “Just arrived from Ilvermorny yesterday.”_

_Frankly, Dean was a tad skeptical when Cas opened the jar and reached inside. The contents were as ordinary as the container they were in, a burnt red powder in the palm of Cas’ hand._

_“Are you sure it’ll work?” Dean mumbled softly, standing still while Castiel rubbed the soil on his cut. It didn’t hurt but tickled instead, and he couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled from his chest._

_“Don’t laugh, you’re making it fall off.”_

_“That might be because it’s dirt. You’re rubbing dirt on my face.”_

_Cas sighed. “You’re an awful patient.”_

_Dean laughed again. “It’s good practice for you.”_

_His teasing only seemed to encourage Cas, and speaking of stereotypes, what was it they said about Slytherin traits? Single-minded focus? It was a great look for Cas either way, and Dean doggedly ignored the fast pace of his heart._

_“There,” Cas said eventually. “I promise I won’t gloat when it heals beautifully.”_

_He was gloating and Dean wanted to laugh, yet what he ended up saying was a quiet, “Thanks.”_

_Cas looked surprised, maybe a little flushed. “Well, um- Right… I… You’re welcome.”_

_It was the first time Dean remembered wishing, distinctly, that Cas would pull him close by his tie and kiss him._

 

__

 

In hindsight, it made a lot of sense that things would come to a head where it first began, their paths crossing again for the hundredth time, as steadfast as the flora blossoming around them.

“I’ve seen you here a lot recently,” Cas smiled, in lieu of a greeting on a Thursday afternoon.

“Yeah, well,” Dean bit his lip. “What can I say? I like the plants.”

It was possibly the lamest sentence to ever come out of his mouth, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw the Bowtruckle gaping at him in exasperation. It was fascinating how a twig creature that size could cast a judgmental look as effective as his brother’s, but Dean could only provide his usual response, which was to avoid eye contact and mutter, “Whatever.”

The Bowtruckle made a noise, clearly laughing at him, though Cas seemed thoroughly unfazed by it. “Yes, I’ll have to agree they’re fascinating,” he replied earnestly.

Dean could kick himself.

“The view is pretty great too,” he said, unprompted, heat flooding his face. They were six, cheesy words that, when strung together, made him feel more vulnerable than ever before.

He couldn’t look at Cas, or stop blushing like a loon, and it wasn’t until Cas cupped his face and had their eyes slowly meet that Dean thought, ‘Wait,’ and held his breath. “Cas?” he whispered, soft and bated, like anything louder would shatter this moment.

But unlike him, Cas didn’t seem nervous. In fact, he was smiling, wide and radiant. It reminded Dean of a luminous moonbeam. “The view from here is beautiful too.”

Dean had wondered, for a very long time, how it might feel to kiss Castiel. He remembered Fifth Year and being sixteen and falling hard and inevitably like a shooting star.

Kissing Cas felt right and so, so good, slow and careful and brimming with emotions they had both carried closely all these years. Cas broke the kiss first, but only to catch his breath, to hold Dean closer and ask, “Go out with me?”

 

 

The sun streamed in through the Greenhouse windows, bathing everything inside in a sheen of brilliance. Even in daylight, the effect was enchanting, as if the space had been dusted with stars. It’s what Castiel loved most – the lust, vibrant life – the palette of green that evoked Dean’s eyes. The work he did wasn’t always glamorous, but he couldn’t imagine a more charming setting.

“I knew I’d find you here.”

Castiel laughed. “I’m predictable, huh?” He took the hand not holding the Mandrake to gather Dean close – gloves and all.

Dean wrinkled his nose adorably. “ _Cas_ ,” he complained. “C’mon, you’re filthy.” Compared to Cas, in his wrinkled work clothes, Dean was practically impeccable in his dark green robes.

Cas smiled crookedly, in a mood to tease now, as he pressed his lips to the curve of Dean’s cheek. He loved the freckles there, the faint, growing blush, the citrusy scent that was undeniably Dean.

 

 

“I thought you liked it when I’m filthy,” Cas said, keeping his voice low and intimate. It was just the two of them here, in all their sweet privacy, but he enjoyed the way Dean turned a rose pink.

“Well, I don’t,” Dean said too quickly, and it may have been convincing were it not for how soft and utterly fond he sounded to Cas. He still huffed when Cas kept kissing him, grazing his lips across the bolt of Dean’s jaw. He was probably due for a shave if Dean’s little whine was anything to go by.

“Are you actually taking me to dinner, or are you gonna be sappy for the next three hours?”

“I could do both,” Cas smiled at him, just to be smug.

“Yeah, I bet.”

“Give me two minutes to clean up, okay?” Cas placated softly as he moved to pull back, though he felt a tiny tickle on his arm before he could and chuckled when he noticed what was settled on Dean’s shoulder. “Looks like our friend’s checking up on you.”

Dean followed Cas’ gaze and released a long-suffering sigh. “He’s _your_ friend. Unless I’ve finally passed your test?” he asked the Bowtruckle, who gave a small shrug. 

“So hard to impress,” Cas shook his head, while tugging Dean in for one last kiss. “I’ll put in a good word for you,” he promised with a grin. 

Dean pushed at his chest. “You’re gonna be late for our date.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be fast,” Cas said. “I’ve already picked out the clothes and everything.” 

“Picked them out?” Dean whistled softly. “You hardly ever do that. What’s the occasion?” 

Cas placed the Mandrake back in the dirt and pulled off his gloves to set them aside. He thought of the ring sitting in his dresser as he took Dean’s hand. “Just because.”

**Author's Note:**

> [Tumblr Masterpost](http://puppycastiel.tumblr.com/post/174823381140/deancasreversebang-title-somewhere-only-we-know) | [Art Masterpost](https://purgatory-jar.tumblr.com/post/174822656607/illustration-i-did-for-this-year-s)
> 
> As always, do leave me your kudos, comments, and love! :)


End file.
